Pyretic thoughts
           cauchemars
sculptures fragmented
           unfinished paintings
empty museums
               bottle of hope
first snow
               last death

black night         white day
        eclipsed
        by hollow visions

nothing else        matters
          horses graze
          unaware

flakes fall
          life hindered
            I stow away
            in my hideout

brushes and words
          blankets and swords

all my secrets
        covered in snow

In a motel room
With a bottle of whiskey
The Perfume of my ex lover in the air
Her negligees all wrapped around my neck
Hung by love
As I fall
All my poems scatter
Rigamortis sets in
One day
Will my love of poetry matter?

Vineyards in the Valley of Becaa
Silence mounted the Seeker
Backdoor Trojan horses to depravity
Sulking men jealous of Jesus

Men will be...
Men will be with men
Toes will point to the two headed snake
Gomorrah opens its cavity to Keefers

The nymphs dance alone
On clouds of deception
Tasting the sweet nectar of their poisons
Tongues lashing in ****** fashion

Brandy flows between the crevice of the valley
Sensual lies as they lick up their own evil juices
Becaa caresses the ***** of Sabine
***** of all truth and wisdom

Brandy tickles the region where his
testaments should have been
Nymphs in the heat of *****'s glory
Wrinkled ******* dried in desert sun

Roman soldiers chase, cowards run

Lines on pages
     Indented desires wrapped in ancient dreams
Death marching up to my wooden door

I am hiding, under a glass stained floor
     A raven plays the harp
The orchestra knows is B sharp

My hair rented and torn
     Life you see forlorn
Lines dancing on pages

Facades weary and paint thin
    A whiter shade of pale so dim
Candlelight still shines from within

Tongues embrace, passion reflected in face
     Indented ******* fall upon the plate
Of hunger, of desire, some may say even fate

At the end of
                             sanity
I am in pieces

if  only my heart
           had a shield

intentions buried
            inside a tomb of fear

disguised torment
            where smiles lay hidden

Simplicity beholds such beauty
the cold winds
wrapping us in shivering hugs
Iceland
you do not need to be a detective
to know my love for you
the polar vortex
colorful northern lights
illuminates
   intricacies buried deep

Your smile makes my heart glow
Data agrees
silly giggles in icy air
along with a soft meow
in the background
of silence
    nipping at happiness

If only
I could die in the arms
Of a lovers’ soft gaze
My last breath
Kissing lost histories
I smile up
Towards the emptiness
She smiles down upon
An empty vessel
Yet as death takes my hand
I see with tears
Love
Existed

Don’t Speak

Close your sweet lips
So I may whisper wine drops in your ears
Close your eyes
So that I may wisp you to magical delusions

Where the scent of love
Wraps around your essence
Your nectar enticing and perfume captivating
You need no words at all
For the love above shall embrace us all

Together, we shall dance in all kinds of weather
Me and you
Love letters bashful and vineyards that grow
With each whispered word
Let me wrap my arms around you
Love has fermented in eternal caskets
The bonds shall keep us together and free
No one can hurt us
Eden was be quested to us
Our paradise until we turn to dust

The stars in the sky
The raging fire warming ***** below
Angels massaging our seductive dreams
Do not speak; hear your heart and ponderous desires
You know you are a flame on fire

Scream for me
As I shall conquer for you
The love within the heart
The love never to be
Do not speak

For teardrops have spoken
The sadness within awoken
Do not speak
Our love was to keep
Inside the bowl of teardrops
Evaporated

Elon Musk and I have a lot in common, in fact we could be cerebral twins, we are both rich, we are both geniuses, we are both insane, well him 1/2 me fully and we have both sent objects into space. he sent a car, I sent my ex up there. Ok actually what I did was, tie a bunch of helium balloons around her neck and up she went. I assume she made it. She's probably driving around up there in Elon's car and laughing all the way to the moon bank, not having to use any fuel up there. Thanks Elon. Next time hand me a call, I would have asked you to send a donkey up there, not that car.


more random thoughts

Insanity

Insanity, its not as crazy as you may think!

Insanity, its a lot more fun than you may think!

Insanity, where crazy is the new normal!

Insanity, join now and get a free white jacket!!

Insanity, a great way to get away with ******!

Insanity, a pathway to the Whitehouse!
( spell check suggests *******, ummmmm)

Insanity, although some call it marriage!

splashes me his smile
never the rain
mirages of ballet noir
alleyways ferme
no one escapes

        vaguely

I glimpse the clouds
he holds a pen
both dream of when
words and the sky
become one

compressed
agony

A Parody

Brigitte my love
Our Country suffers of many debts
The people are restless
Whatever shall we do love?

Ah Macron, we must think past the cookies
The solutions are complex, answers evasive
Let me speak with Marie Antoinette, she shall know!
Queen of Navarre, By god we shall be saved!

Marie, Marie Antoinette our people are restless
Our republic is in debt. these are crazy times!
Whatever shall we do?
I am fed up, allons-y

Ah fear not, if they have not bread!
Let them eat Nutella!
Lower the prices
Nutella for the masses!!!

Marie, are you sure? very very sure of such things?
Oui oui, on with it, my father was emperor of Rome
Nutella will calm the masses
Come here Nemo. taste, see even Nemo is tres happy now!

And so France lowered the prices of Nutella
Thus began the nouveau French Revolution
Riots in the streets, brawling in the magasins
The uprising has began, we want our Nutella for free

The masses rose
Nutella for all, Nutella for sans prix
We are all somewhat fou for Nutella you see!
And so the masses fought each other for Nutella's liberty

Nutella one and Nut Ella all!
I swear to your Brigette
We should have given them Macarons!!!
People remain civilized with cafe and cookies! n'est pas?

Emmanuel my love, fret not
The revolution shall be quelled
Qh I have the perfect person for this
He shall restore order to our dear republic

Prey tell Brigette? Who could do such a thing now
Riots everywhere, the masses fight each other daily?
The streets are not safe
There is a shortages of Nutella now, we are doomed cheri

Non non mon amour, I shall call Alizee
She shall sing us out of the terrible mess
She is the mistress of Doug McMillion
This man can save us all!!

Brigitte, who is this man you call Doug?
Why Emmanuel he is the president of Walmart
He has squashed many Black Fridays rebellions
He shall save us all!!!!!!

From these unruly unsavory Nutella shoppers!!!!!



Vive la France!
Vive Alizee
Mange ton macaroon mon cheri
C'est ton droit et ta liberté

when words fail you
silence smothers you
fears surround you
you borrow inside yourself


                   waiting


                              till that special friend

                         brings you back

your heart and mind

I stare
one hand works
one broken
I have only one heart
it does not work
broken by yesterdays
now I am blind
in one eye
the other
stares at my hands

one hand works
one broken

I sit in silence
staring at a pill bottle

It will be ok
you see
even if I do not
I have no lover
no one to behold
no one to caress

Only one hand
one eye
one life that flew away

A lark sings a song
that goes like this

One hand works
one broken

God called upon me tonight
Collect

Oh how I miss
The kindness
Warm words
Encouragement

Strangers with smiles
Friends hiding amongst rhymes
Tears that make us desire a hug
The human spirit truly shines

All one needs to say
Is Hello

Poetry then follows

Like a shock in the night
I woke up with a fright
I am seven
Not even eleven

I am a child
Wearing a three piece suit in cheese
I got older you see
Mind stayed young even though my first love stung

She was seven
She was smelled like candy heaven
I dreamed to kiss her
So shy, I always missed her

How can it be?
So old in the knee
Yet those in control report back to me
I am seven, no more and no lessen!

I was sure I was eleven
Or maybe even forty seven
Yet here I am on earth
Not even in heaven

Beauty has faded
In the likes of me
Yet Stella is a pretty as ever can be
She was the one, even at seven

That sent my heart straight to the heavens!

From the mirror
Start my day in living fear

From a tear
I live the horror

Beauty is never near
The rose is but a scent

Never held close to breast
My mask covers all fears in my chest

I feel natures embrace in botanical gardens of grace
I smile when I see a babies face

Yet here I am ugly as ever
For the kiss I desire seems to be coming never.

Ugliness was the life of me
My grave stone now, as pretty as can be

Jack be nimble
Jack be quick
or Jack will meet
a ******* *****

Jack be dumb
Jack be slow
Jack the racist
where a bullet should go

Poison ivy
makes haters itch
let them scream
from the spells of a witch

Dorthy fooled
Laura is sick
TinMan has tantrums
his anger is quick

Jack be nimble
Jack be quick
I am no liberal
you redneck hick

Into a poem
Feel the wetness of streaming prose
Wonder
If love shall be the towel
To dry away your tears
As one goes from here to over there
Young to old and old to wise and wise to demise
When the wine bottle tumbles from the table
Jump!
Catch the wine
If there are two hands entwined
Even a poet knows
Lay down the pen
And share that one glass of wine
Touch
The romance of time

Train tracks
long abandoned
birds chirp
history recants
old stories
hidden in meadows
facades rain washed
I hear only my shadow
hugging me
lurking in the dusk
a ghost
with gleaming sword
I tremble in the cold
he, who does not exist

wants me

silence
late
very
late

streetlamps
nothing is awake
silent
moons light

I want to talk
to the past
or a lover
no one


is here

Where there is darkness
There are no words

Where there is a void
There are no words

Where Oceans touch the skies
There are no words

Where fusion turns back time
There are no words

Where angels gaze
There are no words

Where tears mix with blood
There are no words

Before the explosion
There existed a litany of  beautiful words

That lay by the way side
Unused

Crumble
brothels sprout
flesh peddlers collect their fees
selling daughters
in twos and threes
Lopez or Diaz
lazy or defiant
escaped
in polluted lagoons
the virus spreads

Dancing with the dead
priests absolve the devils
in their mist
Pilar sold her virginity
for a few bars of gold
wrapped in an old ladies hatred
she murdered her vows

Mexico is a land of smiles
the knife only glints
in the Aztec sun
as they bury you
after eating your heart

It pleasures me
That she reads me
Inside her serenity
Parked on our bench of antiquities

I, whom gazes over there at her,
Later in the dusk of candlelight
Shall remove her pink dress
Tiss then
I shall see she derives her pleasures
As I read her

Inside four walls
Imprisoned from life
For life
One escapes the shackles and bars
Within owns one mind
Left to wander
Unbeknownst to the guards and keepers
The mind travels beyond the highest walls

The free man
Burdened with sorrows
Regrets and grey skies that oppress
He, of all men, can wander too and fro
Botanical gardens and cathedral ceilings
Art and the classics to feed his hungry eyes
Exploring the world and the depths of his darkness
He, whom shall never be captured, never caught nor imprisoned
His incarceration was not a place, nor four walls, it was his own mind
For Sadness
There is no escape
At all

“You know if reality was just a wee bit more interesting, I might take Sobriety out on a date.”

“Depression is like my ***** laundry, always seem to have some hanging around.”

“Many who seek like not what they find, then they seek solace by acting blind.”

“Inside every old poet is a child, and inside every young poet is an old man.”

“To give a rose, is the deepest of desires that whom receives the rose, appreciates both the rose and the beauty of giving of the rose. “

“There is nothing worse, than being sentenced to death by ones self “

“The more tormented the soul, the more enticing the poetry.”

“Hillary Clinton, I did not have *** with my email server!”

As you are a Saint
They two are angels
In my little heaven
Where gardens are grand
Flowers always in bloom
Sentiments flowing under the moon
I dream of a kiss
sharing these words with flowing curves
Of delight
Bringing heaven down to earth
How absurd?

Saturday, in the dark
Just another day alone with my art
Paint brushes turned all red
As my heart bled onto the canvas said
I painted my life in blood
As I fainted
The brush in my hand fell
Pointing to a poem
My last written word
Called
No more Sundays

Look inside
hide not in fairy tales
the universe is protons and neutrons
there is no one God in the sky
seeking divinity, with boiled blood
fantasies and fables become undone
humans are a speck of dust
whatever illusions create your exotic desires
whatever
the creator will not look at your garden
he will see into your heart
that black holes do indeed
exist

Allah joined the circus
Jesus was a magician
of miraculous bounds
Houdini too
entertained
all of them
from way back in the day
a collection of molecules
conceived of mans seed
***** shooting its passion
in total darkness
of the apple
Aysha kissed Steve's job
the center bleeds arsenic
from illusions
atom became Adam
pure electricity
positive and negative
long before man
or religion
good and evil
created life
destiny's battles
marches onward

I was ******* poetry
Right out of the womb
Now I am ******* poetry
On the way to my tomb

One you escape from
One you do not
Life is a dead end
Suicide is a hope

Walking along dead end streets
Losing memories and endless sleep
Running away from fears unknown
******* away moments, a life stolen

I place him on the chair
Took the kitchen knife
*******, spraying in the air
I stabbed and stabbed till there was no more to be done
The doll he screamed, he screamed but could not run
I felt the pain with each piercing stab
I felt the loss, as the knife I quickly tossed

The neighbors heard such horrible noises
They called the cops, thinking oh the voices
In that crazy ones head, we should have seen
He had wild eyes and born he should not have been

The police came to see little old me
Broke the door in a rush they seemed to be
They saw the blood, they saw the horror
Yet they saw no victim, only a mirror in the corner

I was not dead
Not even close
I removed my soul and placed him on the chair there
Stabbing all night in the thin thin air
There was no crime, no serial killer
Only me
Stabbing my soul, over and over and over

Where is the sunshine?
Can I wake with happy rainbow thoughts
Will you ever be in my arms
The one who reads poetry in my soul
Or shall I remain black with a heart morose

Id touch your fire
Id listen angels choir
Id hold you silently no matter how dire


You are my only light
You are my only hope
Sunshine though seems forever and away
If only I could hold you
In my arms and in my heart

Id touch your fire
Id listen angels choir
Id hold you silently no matter how dire

You make me happy
Yet you are so far from lands unseen
In my dreams
That twilight makes lovers fade away
Sunshine the illusion fate devours
Id touch your fire

Id touch your fire
Id listen angels choir
Id hold you silently no matter how dire

They were like two peas in a pod
Holding hands
Exchanging tongues
Being prissy and laughing at those
Who long before saw their act
Though those two queers, they don’t see at all
They are midgets, and little, and erectly small
With puffed up chests
Stroking hens of the Cornish variety
All of them dregs of a social society


Slum lords and criminal minds
Under the sheets where no one sees
Which one is giving the other the shaft
**** and span they use after, oh so daft
One erotically whispered to the other
A Pain in the ***
As they kissed over their biblical wine glass
Seeking solace in each others arms
Licking their wounds with grammars charm


Grown men, committing sin after sin
Then blaming others for saying
God wants you to begin
Acting like men
And not emancipated boys
Stop diddling and twiddling
Leave alone your petite toys

One day Jehovah will make clear
Belittle others is worse than Queer
Little queens swallowing their own vile
While Ladies and Gentleman laugh
At the ****** and the Clown
In their lingerie and gown

God decried, let those two drown
Even Lucifer laughed under his frown

Roll it
Lights out
Whiskey sour
As I relive my incandescent whims
My life condensed to reels and reels
Of illusions
I stare in the darkness at squandered youth
A cinema of one
Coming undone
The glass falls to the floor
Echoes in the night, Ekerö's in the night
Oland also, ancient islands dancing out of sight
Islands kissing, waters whisper rippling
My sadness wrapped around
A prism in time
The director holds me bound
Movies never end
Until the obituary comes a singing
At the door, never to be opened


We used to be four
Ancient voices
Existing no more

While some sleep
the fairies dance
delicate wings holding
pink and purple paint brushes
stroke by delicate stroke
a canvas of beauty they enhance
flickers of pastels spray all over
falling on broken dreams
or abandoned silver paths

oh but if you saw the fairies smiles
sadness would cease to be
they only wish happiness
to befall on people like you and me

Some say the glass is half full
Some say the glass in half empty
They all focus on the job of the glass
No matter the contents
The glass is there
In sadness or happiness
Toiling with duty and abuse
Next time you see a glass
Wrap your hand around it
In comfort
For there is nothing in this whole universe
That is not joined and one
Feeling both pain and love
Remember these simple words
Then you shall carry humility like a medicine gun
Curing all that ails mankind
As one, the universe is never blind
Do not be the fool, instead be kind

I walk in museums
I see all the pretty pictures
hanging like dead dolls
contemplation
on many faces
sadness within the walls
in a wheelchair
over there
he cant even stare
but he sees me I know
I smile
the painting was hidden
not framed
yet still within these halls

Thieves in the night
Playing with copyright
Poisoned pens
Vultures in the den
In the Palace of hypocrites
Tea served at ten
If only the winds of the sea
And the rains of the sky
In a massive hurricane
Could sweep the Palace on by